To any readers that may still be out there, I probably owe you an apology. It's been a long time since the last update -- a VERY long time. Most of you have probably written the project off as abandoned; and considering how little time I've been devoting to it, you wouldn't be entirely wrong. I assure you, however, that it isn't. I remain committed to getting Nova out of Luxoria at the very least.

Longtime readers may recall that I like to keep a main project and a side project. Currently, the main project is another attempt at an original novella (not the one mentioned previously), and the side project is creating a portfolio. That doesn't leave much, if any, time for this. Sorry.

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Personal log, November Terra:
My clocks say it’s been 142 hours since their last reset, though I’m not sure it makes sense to measure time that way anymore. Hell, nothing makes sense anymore. The sun can’t decide which way is east, I’m trapped in a city of disappearing people about to be eaten by bugs, and the best explanation I have involves angry gods. To top if off, I’m sitting next to a facsimile of myself whose last words were to reject me.

That...hurts a lot more than I thought it would. I wanted her to be like me—exactly like me. I wanted her to be just as strong and disciplined and effective as I am. I guess that was kind of selfish. Tybi isn’t me. She isn’t as strong. She...broke somehow. She hasn’t said a word for days. She just sits there, staring at the floor. I can put food in front of her, but she won’t touch it unless I order her to eat. She’s gone—worse than Lila. If I was still a teep, maybe I could reach her. But I’m not. I’ve...failed. There’s nothing more I can do for her.

Damn that Spectre. Damn her, damn her, damn her! Is there something worse than hell? Because that’s what she deserves. She did this. She destroyed the girl who wanted something better—who deserved better. I killed the bitch, but that means nothing. She’s back in the Battlegrounds, no doubt fully healed and wracking up kills. And I sit here next to a husk, unable to move on. I need to forget—maybe now more than ever. I’d subject myself to days of torture just to get home and have a memory wipe. But if I want to get out just so I can forget again, I’ll be proving her right. Am I really that weak?

No. I came here to learn about the Nexus and what it is. My mission is unchanged, and I will accomplish it. No more distractions. No more alternate selves. There’s nothing I can do for Tybi. She’s dead. She’s not coming back. I can’t reach her. But I do know someone who might be able to—someone who probably wants to see her. If I play my cards right, I can still get the information I came for. It’s risky. But what to I have to lose?

I’m going to get my gun back. Nova out.

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Probably the biggest lesson I've learned from Dispatches from the Nexus is that writing a dynamic character takes careful planning. If your protagonist is on a physical journey, you'd start by drawing a crude map and thinking about what's going to happen at each place along the way. The same is true for protagonists on spiritual journeys. You have to outline steps in between the starting character and the ending character and create circumstances that push him/her into each new position. I failed to do that here, and the result has been a mess.

On some level, Nova is right. This whole subplot with her alternate selves has been a distraction from the physical journey. It was, however, an important idea to play with -- both from a character development perspective and from a skill development perspective.